The Lost Boy
by packofwolves
Summary: Gendry is the only trueborn child of Robert Baratheon and Cersei Lannister. In the eyes of the rest of the Seven Kingdoms, he is nothing but another bastard.
1. Chapter 1

Hi! Cas here. Melissa will be writing the next chapter, so you'll talk to her soon :D

Gendry's age is changed so he's younger than Joffrey...I just wanted to clear that up haha.

Enjoy! xox

* * *

The birthing was painful. That was the only way to describe it, Cersei decided. Never ending, unbearable, excruciating _pain_. She had done it once before but that did not mean that the second time was easier in the slightest. No, it was even more painful. She inwardly cursed every woman who told her that it got easier with the numbers.

She thought the pain was even more intense the moment the maester told her that he saw tufts of black hair upon the boy's head. "_Push_," the old man told her, "I can see his head, Your Grace. Black hair, a true Baratheon." She let out a bloodcurdling scream then, though she wasn't entirely sure if it was because it was one of the final pushes, or because there was no doubt that Robert was the father. _A stag with antlers_, she thought, _that's why it hurts so bloody much_.

Robert sat beside her, holding her hand throughout the whole thing. He was utterly quiet and calm, a drastic change to his usual self. He did not flinch when she screamed, nor did he wince whenever she gripped his hand even tighter. He wasn't even reeking of wine, Cersei noticed with some surprise. He just stayed by her side and watched her with those unblinking blue eyes of his.

Jaime was not with her. She did not know where her brother had gone to, and it unsettled her. He was always here. He was here for the birth of Joffrey, her- _their_- first child, when Robert was not. Perhaps Jaime wasn't here because he knew that this child was not his. Even though he didn't want to be here, _she_ wanted him to be. If she closed her eyes, she could pretend that Robert's hand holding hers was that of her brother.

The babe was laid on her breast, wrapped in a yellow and black towel, wiped clean of the birthing blood. Robert helped her sit up and his arm lingered around her shoulders. She did not tell him to move- she was too exhausted and her throat hurt too much to talk.

The small boy looked up at her in wonderment, his pink mouth hanging open as if to talk, his blue eyes the widest she'd ever seen. He was beautiful. She wanted to love him. She could look past the Baratheon features and raise him as a lion. But the resentment for Robert was a bitter and vile taste in her mouth, ever present. She could not look at the boy without seeing Robert, the man who made Cersei shrink into _this_. This hating, angry, upset and vile being.

"He's perfect," her husband finally said, the first words she'd heard from him in several hours. "Our little stag." He reached out a finger and the boy instantly wrapped his tiny hand around it.

"And a lion," Cersei whispered, tears stinging at the back of her eyes.

"Aye." Robert's eyes never left the babe. "He looks just like you." He had not shown this much interest and love to Joffrey when he was born. Baratheon or not, Joffrey was the heir to the throne and a matter of different hair and eyes should not make Robert love him any less. _The same should go for you, then._

"But they're your colours, Your Grace."

"Enough with the titles, Cersei." He rarely used her given name. "Can't we be happy for one minute before we act like we hate each other again?" He ran his hand soothingly up and down her sore back. "We made another beautiful child. We should celebrate that."

Stiffly, she nodded. She had no words for him, but she had no interest in speaking to him in the first place. The babe in her arms gurgled and thrashed around. He let out a loud cry and several more after that. _Hear me roar_, she thought sarcastically. _How can you still want to scream? You have done nothing but since coming into the world._

"Gendry," Robert murmured, stroking the top of the babe's head with a gentleness Cersei did not know he was capable of. "Gendry Baratheon. Nice ring to it, I think."

"Gendry," she echoed softly, her heart aching. _He's too perfect._ A tear rolled down her cheek and she felt it land on her knuckles.

Robert leaned over and lightly brushed his lips against hers. She felt another tear slide down. The kiss was chaste and pure, nothing like his usual drunken kisses and groping hands.  
"Thank you," he whispered and Cersei finally let her composure break. She collapsed into her arms and cried along with Gendry. Robert simply held her.

Cersei's father, Tywin, marched into the room with a guard on each side. It was a month after Gendry's birth, and the babe seemed to be growing more and more every day. The panic deep inside her seemed to grow with Gendry, and she couldn't help but wonder when they would realize that Joffrey was not in fact Robert's son.

"What are you doing here?" she asked her father, setting Gendry back inside his crib. She tied her shift back up, which had been left open to breastfeed Gendry.

Tywin's expression was as grave and grim as ever. "It is time." She felt as if an iron fist was squeezing her throat, making it nearly impossible for her to breathe. "You know it is for the best. There cannot be any doubt. Two brothers of different colors and a supposedly strong Baratheon gene between them would raise suspicions."

Her bottom lip trembled and her eyes welled up with tears, but she nodded nonetheless. Her father was wise, and he was always right in the end. It was for the best. That was what she thought over and over again as she watched one of the guards take Gendry from the crib. On the other side of the room, Joffrey was playing with his stuffed lion, making soft noises to himself, completely oblivious to the scene in front of him.

The other babe was put in the crib in Gendry's place. He was a bit smaller than Gendry, and the more Cersei looked at him, the more differences she found. His color was very pale, with bright red cheeks, and she knew that he was gravely ill. There would not be much time until this one would die. Her heart twisted under her breast when she heard the little one cough, tears streaming down his cheeks.

She forced herself to look away from the replacement babe, forced herself to stop thinking about Gendry and this one. _He'll be safe…safer than he is here. Although I can't say the same about the other babe…_

"He will be in good hands," Tywin assured her, voicing her thoughts. "He will have people watching over him constantly."

"I know," she replied immediately, her tone sharper than she intended. The queen took a deep breath and clutched onto the railings of the crib. "I can't believe you talked me into doing this," she muttered, more to herself than to Tywin.

"It is for the best," her father said again, more firmly this time. "House Lannister would be tainted permanently should others find out the truth." He did not need to elaborate; she knew what he was talking about, and he would not risk voicing Joffrey's parentage in front of the guards.

Tywin walked up to her and put a hand on her arm, the touch warm and reassuring. "Just play your part, and everything will fall into place."

She swallowed her tears; there would be a time for those later, when she was alone. She had to stay strong, at least in front of her father. "Of course," Cersei whispered, meeting his gaze for a short moment. She looked away right after, the tears burning. Tywin kissed her cheek and was gone right after.

For awhile, the only news she heard relating to Gendry was the death of the two guards that had come into her chambers. _My father sure knows how to tie loose ends._


	2. Chapter 2

Hello, I'm Melissa, co-author of The Lost Boy. Here is the second chapter to our wonderful story! I hope you all enjoy, and Cas will be giving ya'll the next one!

* * *

"I'm afraid it won't be much longer; a few days, perhaps." Grand Maester Pycelle looked over at Cersei, a grim expression on his face. He had been in and out of her quarters for the past three days, tending to the new born babe in the crib. The fever was too strong, and nothing was working.

Cersei slumped over in her chair, her face full of fatigue and worry. Worry over another woman's son. Her hand went to her forehead as she closed her red puffy eyes. Robert had been behind her, and he made another loving gesture as he placed his hand on her shoulder.

"Thank you, Maester Pycelle." His voice was soft, concerning. She did not think he was capable.

"Your Grace." He bowed his head as he slowly exited the room, the large wooden door closing behind him and leaving Robert and Cersei alone.

Once Maester Pycelle left the quarters, she got up, making Robert's hand fall from her shoulder. She went across the room to the crib that held the sick babe; she picked him up carefully and brought him to her chest. Cersei tried to care for the boy, to feel sorry that this illness was taking him away from the world. But she couldn't, all she could think of was Gendry.

"He likes the sun." Cersei turned a bit; she didn't even hear him walk up behind her. Robert reached over and gently ran his hand over his head, the black tufts of hair moving back as he did so. Cersei bit her lip as the tears filled her eyes, willing them back. _I'm a lion of Casterly Rock, lions do not cry._

"You are going to miss your hunt." Cersei straightened her back as Robert's hand dropped from the sick baby's head.

Robert nodded, his hand going to the back of his neck. "I can stay."

"When do you ever miss the chance to stick a spear through a boar?" She looked out the window; all she could see from her spot in the room was the sky.

"Cersei," Robert sighed and moved in front of her. Her eyes went to his, an apology reflecting in them.

"Please, stay."

Robert nodded, one of his hands going to her shoulder, the other under the baby's head.

Cersei hadn't slept that night; she was up with the baby, holding him and soothing him. The air in the chambers smelt of death. Varys had given them fresh lavender to spread around the room to dull the smell, but death still loomed.

Much to her surprise, Robert had stayed up with her, taking his turn holding Gendry and trying to get him to eat. The baby wasn't taking any milk, but Robert was not giving up. Cersei couldn't help but smile at his determination; it was there, whether it was taking a kingdom or getting a baby to feed.

But as determined as her King might be, it did not get the sick babe to feed. It was a matter of time until the fever completely took him. Maester Pycelle could not offer any more to ease the illness for Gendry, and so they sat in the chambers and waited.

His breathing became ragged, shallow and throughout the day Cersei had noticed the color fading from his face. She had wrapped him loosely in a blanket and sat in her bed, rocking him slowly to sooth him as he fought harder and harder.

Robert had been pacing, his striking black hair a mess as he kept running his hands through the strands. He was not good at this, but Cersei did appreciate that he tried.

The waiting game was becoming unbearable; dusk was almost upon them as the babe was losing his strength. It was astonishing how he was holding on to life, how he was not giving up. With Robert's help, Cersei had moved from the bed to a chair near the window overlooking the ocean- a small warm breeze had taken up and was pushing back her long blond hair.

The baby did not seem to notice as he drew ragged breaths into his tiny lungs. Cersei had stopped looking at him; she couldn't bear to see his face twist in pain. She had placed a slender hand gently on his stomach, so she would know when his life was over. Robert had continued his pacing, until finally she could feel it, the last draw of breath.

Her own breath caught in her throat and she looked down at the baby, who was now still. She swallowed the lump in her throat as she looked over at Robert. When he heard the creaking of the rocking chair stop, he did so as well. Fear was in his blue eyes as he looked over at his wife. He moved towards her and kneeled next to her, his hand going to rest on top of hers. "He's gone."

Cersei nodded as her eyes filled with tears. She dropped her head softly and shut her eyelids tight. Robert had got up just as quickly as he knelt beside her, his footsteps got further and further away from him. The chamber door opened and she could hear his deep voice give off some commands to Maester Pycelle. Then the chamber door shut, but his footsteps did not come closer to her.

She started to rock in the chair again and pulled the babe closer to her breast. "I'm so sorry…" Finally, she let the tears slip from her eyes and down her cheeks. Robert would never know what she was truly sorry about, and she prayed to the gods that no one would ever figure it out to tell him.

"Robert, I am so sorry."

Robert could not stand it; this woman was falling apart before his eyes. He moved from his spot near the door, his own tears filling his eyes and rolling down his cheeks into his beard. He stood behind her, his hands going to both of her shoulders.

"Shh, it is not your fault."

But it was. Cersei lifted her head and let it fall back against the chair; she looked out over the ocean, peaceful and perfect. But the peace was soon disrupted as the bells ran through the halls, through the kingdom. The bells that let the world know that the babe she held in her arms, was dead.


End file.
